


Breaks All Chains

by thedeadparrot



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-16
Updated: 2010-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadparrot/pseuds/thedeadparrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk wants things back to the way they used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaks All Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://heeroluva.livejournal.com/profile)[**heeroluva**](http://heeroluva.livejournal.com/) as part of the [Lightening Round](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/2706.html) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/profile)[**help_haiti**](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/).
> 
> Additional warning-ish things: Dubious consent and implied violence.

Spock kneels at Jim's feet, his head bent, his hands splayed out over his thighs. "You asked for me, Captain?" he asks, his voice as stiffly formal as always. Jim has not quite broken him of his strict adherence to protocol yet, but at least he's managed to get Spock to stop calling him "Master."

"Farrell just gave me his report on your handling of the Chekov situation. Very nice work, there," Jim says. He places a hand on Spock's shoulder, warmth emanating from under the dark robe. The robe was a gift from Jim's father for when Spock came of age, and the back collar is emblazoned with the name "Kirk," a mark of who Spock belongs to.

"I performed my duties to the best of my abilities," Spock says. "I am glad that the results have pleased you." He does not look Jim in the eye, the proper behavior of a slave. The punishment for looking an owner in the eye on a Starfleet vessel is death. Some colonies are looser in their rules, but Starfleet is meant to stand as a symbol of power, order, and discipline of the Empire. And any steps out of line are dangerous when starships and all their offensive capabilities are at stake.

Jim runs his fingers through Spock's hair. Spock doesn't pull away, but he doesn't lean into the caress, either. There was a time when he would, though, and the memory tastes bitter on Jim's tongue.

The first time Jim had kissed Spock, they were fourteen, still too new at it to be any good. But back then, Spock had kissed him back fiercely, his arms wrapped around Jim's shoulders, his tongue pressed up against Jim's. When Jim kisses Spock now, Spock goes pliant, responding in a stiff, almost polite, way. He leans back as Jim presses against him, his lips parting without resistance, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.

The room is too quiet, just the sound of Jim's deep, ragged breathing, because Spock's breaths are are too soft and too even to be heard. Usually, this is where Jim would stop, back away, because it was usually enough just to know that the Spock he'd known at fourteen isn't the Spock he knows right now. It gets a little more painful every time he tries to recapture that brief moment of happiness, that moment before Jim's father had caught them and sent Spock away to god-knows-where. Spock had been allowed to return just as Jim was entering the Academy, and even back then Jim had found it hard to imagine that he'd ever seen Spock smile, even that tiny thing he used to wear whenever he'd helped Jim steal the harvesting equipment.

"Is that all, Captain?" Spock asks, his muscles tensing as if he's anxious to leave.

Jim could say, _Yes, that will be all, Spock,_ and give Spock the escape he so desperately wants, but he's sick of the way they've been pussy-footing around each other. "No, he says and pulls back the collar of the robe just enough so that he can bite down on and old wound on Spock's shoulder, drawing bright green blood. Jim feels a little thrill of victory at seeing Spock flinch. It's a sign that maybe Spock's not that perfect, untouchable Vulcan slave that he likes to pretend to be.

"Spock," Jim says into Spock's neck. He laps at the impression of his teeth, tasting the sharp copper of Spock's blood. "I miss you," he continues. Jim's never really learned to communicate in any other way besides sex and violence since Spock left, and that's all he has left. He doesn't know what else to do.

Spock's body stiffens, back going ramrod straight under Jim's hands, but he remains as silent as ever. They don't talk anymore, not in the way they would as children, when Jim would whisper his dreams of killing his way to becoming Emperor and Spock would solemnly vow to always remain by his side. Nowadays, Spock will make tiny, non-committal responses to almost any conversation Jim tries to strike up, from Imperial politics to improvements on the warp engines to the various conspiracies at work on Jim's ship.

Jim wants to reach in and tear Spock's words out of his mouth, tear every ounce of hidden emotion out of his heart, tear the boy Jim's father had bought for him out of Spock's skin. Jim pushes Spock's robe entirely off his shoulders so that it pools around Spock's legs and feet, where he's still kneeling. This leaves Spock completely naked -- the first time Jim's ever seen him like this. But Spock's self-possession makes Jim feel like the one being exposed. "On the bed," Jim snaps, his words coming out more like an order than he means it to.

Spock obeys without hesitation or complaint, laying himself flat on the bed, waiting. And Jim hates that Spock will do this without a quirked eyebrow, without a dry comment about Jim's need to order him around.

"Prepare yourself for me," Jim says, and as he looks over all that pale skin matted with thick dark hair, he wonders how much pain it would take to force Spock to scream like a new crewman. It would take more than a human could handle, surely, perhaps more than even an agonizer could produce without killing him. It would break him open just that tiniest bit, though, and that's what Jim desperately needs to see. Spock fetches a tube of lubricant from the bedside table and coats his fingers with it, slides his hand between his legs. Kirk can't see what he's doing, but he knows that Spock knows exactly what he means.

When he's done, Spock pulls his hand back and lays it on the bed at his side. "Are you ready?" Jim asks. Spock's expression is as smooth as it was when he stepped into Jim's room.

"I am," is Spock's terse reply. His voice is cold, but that doesn't mean Jim doesn't want him. Jim feels like he's wanted Spock forever, since before he knew what wanting _was_. But he's never wanted it like this, just another master fucking his slave.

Jim fits into the V of Spock's legs perfectly, and when he presses into Spock's body, it almost feels like coming home. The bitemark has stopped bleeding, and when Jim presses his fingers against the wound, Spock gives up a small, involuntary shiver of pain. Jim fucks Spock slow and steady, letting the heat build between them. Spock, for all the indifference in his expression, is hard against Jim's stomach, his body trembling with every thrust. Jim grabs Spock's hand, pressing their palms together, knows Spock can feel every raw, painful feeling that has been crawling under Jim's skin for _years_.

When he's close to coming, Jim grabs Spock's chin and forces him to meet his eyes, and he's nearly boweled over by the desire, lust, and pain he sees there. His relief pushes him over the edge, and he comes long and hard, like everything is being pulled out of him all at once.

After Jim's washed and put on his clothes for the night, he finds Spock with his robe pulled back on, kneeling on the floor as if nothing has happened. Jim says, "It doesn't have to be like this, you know. What my father did--"

Spock's placid expression is back, as blank as always. "Your father merely reminded me that I was not behaving according to my station. He always understood the dangers to you more than you ever did." There's a knife edge to his words, barely-veiled annoyance and anger, and despite what Spock may be pretending, Jim can see the cracks in Spock's facade.

Jim says, simply, "Spock, I _need_ you." He knows that Spock's is giving him a warning, a reminder that there's wide-spread paranoia about what might happen if a Vulcan were to ever get the tiniest bit of true freedom. If anyone realized what Spock actually meant to Jim, they'd both be executed on the spot. But Jim doesn't care. He'd just like to see someone try.

Spock says, "I have given you all I have to give. If you will not require my assistance any longer, I will return to my quarters now." He stands, bows, and leaves before Jim can properly dismiss him. Another sign that Spock's unbending further, that maybe Jim's efforts have not been wasted after all.

He's left alone again, the silence in his quarters almost echoing, but the smile on Jim's face is undimmed.

 

FIN.


End file.
